


You'll Always Win

by gray_autumn_sky



Series: Set in 4A [3]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-23
Updated: 2018-09-19
Packaged: 2018-11-18 02:25:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11281812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gray_autumn_sky/pseuds/gray_autumn_sky
Summary: Set in a S4 AU setting, Regina reveals she's allergic to trees.





	1. Chapter 1

Regina’s eyes closer as Robin’s hand slips up over her hip, as he holds himself above her. It’s third night that week he’s stayed over–and she can’t help but think this is something she could get used to. For weeks, they’ve been getting closer–more serious and more intentional–and she was relishing in it. It was all so new and unexpected, something she never thought she’d have.

Sure, they’d flirted with idea before–and they’d come awfully close to being happy together–yet something was always in the way. And when they’d walked into the dinner that night and saw Marian standing at the counter, she was so sure that that was it, that their love affair would come to a halting end, that she’d be alone again.

But she was wrong.

And though there’d been a few difficult weeks, Robin never walked away.

“You know,” Robin murmurs as his lips press against her bare shoulder, eliciting from her a breathy moan, “I can’t help but notice that you never stay the night with me.”

Her brow arches and her head falls back as his lips slide up her neck. “Oh no? Then what’s happening now… at two in the morning… otherwise known as the middle of the night?” A little laugh rises into her voice as his fingers press into her skin. “Are we not together? Am I imagining this?”

“We’re in your bed, at your house… like always.”

“Are you complaining?”

“Never,” he breathes out as his tongue flicks her earlobe. “Just making an observation.” A grin tugs onto her lips as her hand slides beneath the covers. Her lip catches between her teeth as her hand slides between them, ghosting down his chest–and he gasps against her skin as her hand forms around his cock. “Mmm…”

“You sure you’re not complaining?” She asks again, a throaty chuckle rising into her voice. “Because if you are, we could always… not do this.”

“I’m not,” he says quickly, pulling back as her hand slips slowly along his shaft. “I just… wondering if… oh,” his eyes close momentarily and he swallows hard. “That feels… so… ohhh…”

Her grin grows coy, feeling him starting to harden again. “You’re wondering there’s a reason that we’re always here and never at the camp,” she says, trying to keep her voice even, trying to pretend this is like any other conversation, trying to pretend they aren’t doing what they’re doing to each other–and trying to pretend as if there aren’t obvious answers. “Is that it?”

“Mmm…”

With a sigh, she pulls her hand away, grinning as he lets out a little groan of displeasure at the sudden absence of her touch. “Because there is…” He’s breathing harder now as he falls onto his back and her fingers slide slowly down his chest, stopping just before the spot where he wants them. “There’s definitely a reason.”

Lifting his head, he blinks up at her, reaching up and tucking her hair behind her ear. His hand lingers at her cheek and his eyes are soft and sincere–and there’s no way she can tell him the Merry Men’s camp isn’t the most comfortable or welcoming of places. She’s not entirely sure how his friends feel about her and more times than not, his soon-to-be ex-wife is there–and though their split was a mostly amicable one and she knows Marian will always be apart of their lives, sleeping in the tent next to her is something she can’t quite reconcile.

Especially not when she knows she’ll wake up with blotchy skin and itchy eyes, sniffling as her temples throb.

“I’m allergic,” she says, a bit reluctantly as she scrunches her nose. “Box elders, mostly. Pines and birch,too, and… some other plants and mosses.”

His eyes widen and he takes a breath, trying to focus. “Oh, love… I didn’t realize…”

“So,” she cuts in with a low voice as her hand slips down his thigh, not wanting to dwell on her allergies when there much more enjoyable things to focus on. “You have a choice.”

“Mm, do I?”

“Yes,” she tells him, drawing herself up onto her knees and tucking her legs beneath her. “You sleep in your tent, beneath the treetops and stars, with your band of Merry Men…” He lets out a breath sigh as her hand forms around the base of his cock, “…or, you can sleep with me.” Leaning in, she flicks her tongue against the tip and turns her head to look up at him. “It’s up to you.”

“You win,” he says easily as her tongue slides down his shaft. Swallowing hard, he takes a breath and groans as she takes him into her mouth. “You’ll always win… no contest.”


	2. Reasons (Not) To Camp

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Regina and Robin spend a night together at the Merry Men’s camp... in spite of her allergies.

Against her better judgement, she’d stayed the night…Stayed the night with Robin in his tent at the Merry Men’s camp, something she’d successfully avoided for the first few months of their relationship.

But for some reason, having her stay over meant a lot to him–and when he’d showed up at Granny’s for their lunch date with a pharmacy bag full of nasal sprays and allergy tablets, and hopefully asked if any of it would help her, she hadn’t had the heart to say no.

And she couldn’t say the night had been unpleasant.

They’d arrived just after dinner with Henry and Emma and the rest of the Charming clan, and she’d been glad not to go home to an empty house.

She and Robin had gone on a long walk through to woods and for awhile they’d sat by the river, watching as the shallow water rippled against the rocks. As the temperature fell, Robin’s arms had wrapped around her and he’d pulled her back against his chest, holding her close and keeping her warm.

Finally the sun set and they’d returned to camp to find Roland and the Merry Men–and she couldn’t help but notice the absence of Marian.

She didn’t bring it up, though; instead, she just followed Robin’s lead as he tugged her down beside him and smiled as Roland ran to them and settled himself on her lap. Slowly but surely the rest of the Merry Men found other things to busy themselves with, while she and Robin and Roland toasted s'mores.

Roland fell asleep quickly and after tucking him into his own tent, Robin tugged her into his–and despite the dull ache at her temples and just beneath her eyes, she’d kissed him.   
  
From there, it hadn’t taken long before their hands were pushing into the others clothes and he was lowering her to the too-small cot that was his bed. She’d laughed a little as they made themselves comfortable and he made a quip how small beds made for better intimacy, and she made no effort to stifle an eye roll–or a tell-tale sniffle.

Finally, though they’d found a comfortable position with her straddling his hips, rocking them both to a soft orgasm. While it wasn’t sensational, it was enough, leaving them both sated and content.

She’d pushed him back onto the cot, practically laying on top as he pulled a thick woolen blanket up around them and rubbed his hands over her back to keep her warm.

“You were right,” he conceded. “Staying at your place is better.”

“I don’t know, I’m pretty comfortable here,” she murmured as she breathed in the soft smell of pine–a scent that surrounded her completely and made her feel safe. “It has its perks.”

“I’m glad,” he told her as he pressed a kiss to her hair. “How do you feel?”

“Tired.”

“And your allergies?”

She’d hesitated at that–fully aware that the full ache around her eyes was worsening and her nose felt itchy and even a little swollen. “I guess we’ll see in the morning,” she’d said as she burrowed into him…

The first thing she’s aware of that morning was how heavy her head feels–stuffy and achy, and when she attempts to open her eyes, she finds it difficult.

Sighing she pulls herself up, and rubs fingertips against her eyes, groaning when she finds them puffy and crusty. With a sigh, she bats at her eyes and forces them open, and as she tries to draw in a breath, she finds her nasal passage blocked.

“You okay?” Robin asks in groggy voice, and she can only manage a sigh in return, watching as an empathic little grin edges into his lips as he lifts his head to look at her. “Oh, love…”

“How blotchy an I?” She asks, grimacing at her nasaly tone. “Is it completely gross?”

“No…”

She sighs and her head dips forward and her palm presses to his chest–and a little gasp escapes her when her fingers touch something wet. “Oh, is that…” Her eyes widen and she feels her cheeks flush at the realization she’s touching the spot his head had been resting.

“It’s nothing… just a little drool and… maybe some snot,” he laughs, reaching for an old t-shirt and wiping it away. “Trust me, Roland has covered me in much, much worse.”

“I’m disgusting…”

“And yet…” he murmurs as he leans in, dropping the shirt down at the side of the cot, “for some reason, I’m attracted to you.”

“Even now?” She challenges as her brow arches up.

“Even now,” he tells her as he presses a kiss to her cheek.


	3. The Things We'll Do For Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For Inspired by OQ week. Based on the beautifully colored gif by @umbrellagates:

When Robin proposed, Regina hadn’t hesitated to say yes.

More than anything she wanted to build a life with him, and though that was exactly what they’d been doing all these months since returning to Storybrooke, there was something about having a ring on her finger that made it all the more real to her.

And lasting.

And permanent.

Forever, and unescapable.

Her nightmares had started not long after that--little flickers of memories to the last time she was engaged and planning a wedding. It was silly really even to compare them. Robin wasn’t Leopold--in fact, Robin was everything Leopold wasn’t. She loves him, and he loves her. He’d seen her at her lowest moments and helped through one of the bleakest periods of her life. He knew who she was and what she was capable of, and he never once gave up on her. Theirs would be a marriage between equals, a marriage built around friendship and respect, and of course, love.

Yet whenever they talked about the wedding, something would happen. Her shoulders would tense and her stomach would tighten, and she found herself nit-picking every last detail. She couldn’t explain why she was doing it or why she was feeling the way that she was, so she didn't try--and really, she just hoped that it would go away.

For the most part, Robin had been patient--patient, as he always was.

She’d nixxed every option they had for a venue. Storybrooke wasn’t a large town, so their options were already limited, so they couldn’t afford for her to pick apart venues in search of some fatal flaw that she simply couldn’t live with. They didn’t talk about the fact that she had magical abilities and could simply fix whatever it was she didn’t like, that she could create a backdrop for them to marry that was to her liking and met her standards--and she suspected they didn’t talk about it because Robin knew what she was doing, that he knew it wasn’t about the venues, the wedding, or even him.

But she was wrong.

He didn’t know.

And the night before that frustration and lack of understanding exploded, she and Robin got into a fight, and still she couldn’t quite find the words to describe what it was she was thinking and feeling--so as she always did, she doubled down. She remained stubborn and cavalier, and it wasn’t until he’d stormed out that she realized how hurt he actually was--and the last thing he said before leaving was that maybe the problem was that she didn't actually want to marry him, that he wasn’t good enough for her, that she didn’t actually love him.

Tears welled in her eyes as she stood there, rooted in place. Henry came down the stairs, hovering on the bottom stairs as he looked at her, and when she finally turned to face him, he told her that Robin had a point.

She’d sent him a text that night and then two more in the morning, but he hadn’t responded, and when she stopped by the Merry Men’s camp on the way to work, John and Marian both told her they hadn’t seen him. It occurred to her that they might be lying, that Robin might have asked them to tell her he wasn’t there, but she wasn’t going to question it, and she wasn’t going to admit what had happened--and for the first time in her life, she was thankful for her allergies because neither John or Marian questioned her tears.

It was nearly noon when her office phone rang and her heart practically jumped into her throat at the sound of his voice. He didn’t sound upset, quite the contrary, actually, and he asked her to meet him. She hadn’t hesitated to agree and jotted down the address on her notepad, and she chuckled softly at the lack of sensible directions he gave, not giving them a second thought as she hung up and told her secretary she’d be out for the rest of the day.

As she followed the directions, she practiced her apology--and when she saw him standing on the side of the road, just near the townline, she couldn’t help but laugh.

“I’ll take you the rest of the way,” he called to her, grinning as she got out of the car.

“The rest of the way?”

He nods. “It’s just a bit further.”

Blinking, she looked past him toward the dense woods, and already she could feel a headache flickering behind her eyes as it became harder to breathe. “Robin, I--”

“Oh! I brought this for you.” Her brow furrows as she watches him reach into his pocket and he grins proudly when he pulls out a little magenta colored box with the name Benadryl on the front. “I have water, too, if--”

“Shouldn’t we, um… talk?”

“About what?”

“Last night,” she says. “The, um… the fight we had.”

“Oh,” he murmurs, nodding. “I shouldn’t have stormed off like that. I’m sorry.”

“I can understand why you did, and I--”

“I went for a long walk after,” he tells her, cutting in. “And that’s how I found this place.”

Her lips part, ready to launch into her rehearsed apology, but then his words stop her. “What place?”

Robin grins. “You don’t come out this way much, do you?”

“If you’re asking if I explore the woods, you know the answer is no.”

“Right…” From his satchel he pulls out a bottle of water, and she takes it from him just before she pushes two pills from the foil wrapping. “The magic cure,” he says as she swallows them. “Is it working yet?”

A soft little laugh escapes her, and she shakes her head--she loves how eager and bright-eyed he is. “Not yet.”

“Do you want to wait or--”

“No,” she says, shaking her head, fairly confident that the Benadryl won’t help her. “Let’s go. I want to see what has you so excited.”

Regina’s heart flutters as he takes her hand, leading her into the woods. She feels her nose starting to itch and her eyes begin to water, and the flicker of a headache she felt before worsens and a dull ache settles at her temples. But Robin chatters on and on about how he can’t wait to show her whatever it is that he’s leading her to, and she doesn’t have the heart to ask him to stop--so she follows him deeper into the woods and tries to ignore her allergies.

She stumbles through an apology and does her best to explain the feelings she can’t quite make sense of--and easily, he accepts it and tells her they both said things that they didn't mean. It amazes her how he bounces back--how he doesn't dwell on things and just moves past them, how he can acknowledge a mistake and think of it as only that.

Reaching into her purse, she searches for a kleenex, sniffling as she does. Her pockets and purse come up empty, and she swats the back of her hand over her nose as she sighs in frustration--and when she looks back up, Robin was holding out a handkerchief.

“It’s clean,” he tells her, grinning. “Promise.”

“Thank you,” she murmurs, taking it and turning away she she blows her nose. “How, um… how much longer do we have before we get to… well… wherever?”

“We’re here.”

She blinks and looks back to him, then looks around. “Here? There’s… nothing here.”

“Sure there is,” he insists, gesturing toward a large tree just a few feet beyond them. “I mean, just look at it! Clearing her throat, she swallows and sniffles as her eyes shift to the large, but otherwise not very interesting tree. “I saw it, and I just knew that this was the place.”

“The place--”

Mm--”

Oh.

To get married, she realizes as she turns herself around to look at the steep, rocky incline they just walked down, then, reaching the thin, gold chain around her neck, she looks back to him. He looks oddly proud of the tree as if by merely existing, it’s done something profound. He explains that it’s a Box Elder--which means nothing to her--and it’s just like one the one that was at the center of his camp in the Sherwood Forest. He beams as he goes on to explain that it’s also the Tree of Life, and when her eyes narrow and her head tips to the side, he chuckles softly and informs her the Box Elder is, apparently, near and dear to her heart. It’s the symbol on the front of her vault and a charm she wears around her neck. It symbolizes nourishment of mind and body, and connections between the earth and those who walk it, linking generations and reminding us of our past, but also of our future--and as he goes off on a tangent about growth and resiliency and rebirth, all she can do is stare at him, and for a moment, she thinks it looks like he might cry.

Fuck.

Her eyes press closed as Robin continues waxing poetic about the tree, and she dabs the handkerchief at her drippy, itchy nose, trying with all her might to actually pay attention. Drawing in a long, deep breath, she opens her eyes and looks at him--and then, slowly releasing the breath, she prepares herself for what she’s about to suggest, a little part of her wishing she’d just agreed to getting married on the patio at Granny’s or in her own backyard. But she didn’t agree to either of those places or any of the others, and though this specific spot is the last place she’d ever want to spend any amount of time at, it obviously means the world to Robin.

“It’s perfect,” she cuts in, his voice halting as he looks to her. “We, um… we should get married here.”

“Really? You think so?” he asks, looking back at her as his whole face lights up. “I thought so, too.”

Sniffling, she nods. “It, um… it obviously has a lot of meaning and--”

“It does,” he agrees. “We could get some of those twinkly little lights and some of those paper lanterns…”

He continues on, and it’s obvious that he’s been thinking about this all morning and that he’s given it a considerable amount of thought--and in spite of herself, she smiles and nods along doing her best to ignore her itchy eyes and drippy nose. Instead she focuses on the fact that her headache has dulled thanks to the Benadryl and how completely happy Robin looks--and as his hand slips over her hips as he hugs her into his side, she reminds herself that he’s worth the (not so) minor inconvenience of her allergies.


End file.
